Aveeno's Return
by RobinOriginal1
Summary: Abandoned as a toddler in 1800s Mystic Falls, Aveeno Bennet grows well into his years with a hidden sense of abandonment. Troubled with an unknown past and overbearing questions, a vampire comes to him, shares a life he had no knowledge of, one that interests him. However, once he is entangled in the supernatural, he notices there are more cons than pros to the lifestyle. Enjoy (:
1. Chapter 1

Have you ever been to New Orleans? I don't mean as a tourist but as a recurring tourist. Almost like it was something beyond the booze, beads, tits, and drunk fights; even more than the paranormal/ supernatural crap people still believed in. But, have you ever truly been to New Orleans? Into the depths of the earth, into the graveyards after the lights are out, walking down the streets in the crease between night and daylight. Have you ever been a witch coming into New Orleans? Have you ever felt the air? Touch the swamps kiss… Have you ever truly been to New Orleans?

Trumpets pounded freely, drums pounding wildly, a zoo of instruments guiding my hips to its sway. I knew the path proudly, they were leading me to my lover, as I instructed them to! One of the boys in the band made eye contact with me, lips constantly growing with a smile. He wanted me, and in any other circumstance- I would've wanted him to, but I was on a mission now. I had to find Marcellus Gerard. Twirling in overdue delight, I protruded my power to all corners of the quarter. One guy with an oversized drum smacked the gawking boy's head, motioning him to pay attention to the route. I bellowed in laughter. I felt the witches of New Orleans all around me, they watched the show as I pranced down the French Quarter, none sought to welcome me into their city, but all held warm smiles. I had to admit, it was less supernatural creatures on the grounds than when I had been here before. Vampires running free. Werewolves in the swamps-hiding. Witches in the shadows… New Orleans was a totally different area. The band's roar pounded around the quarter until stumbling upon a huge vineyard mansion. The dragon signature curled under the grand 'M'. Bodies lingered all around the four balconies, one girl with a multicolored mohawk dangled from the arm of the fountain statue.

For some apparent reason, vampires looked different to me, their energy felt different. Yet, I looooooooved the attention they bestowed on me. Their eyes matched with bloodlust curled in my stomach and turned something far more than fear but sparked my magic with a new sense of urgency. My power called to the band- causing the ruckus to stop.

"Who are you?" One curly haired vampire growled, I couldn't help myself from mustering a smile, he pressed against my chest, the bridge under his eyes slowly pulsating with bloodshot veins. Another vampire instantly approached at my backside, growling against my back.

"Oh nice, a sandwich." I muttered fiercely, knowing both could hear me promptly.

"He asked a question, I think you better answer." He spat through his lips. My power instantly rippled through the air, touching the atmosphere in radiance, I extended my fingers slowly- calling for my power to come forth. Both vampires bellowed in pain. Both grabbing for their temples in agony. A shadow stormed from the balcony, coming into my sight. He slowly stalked towards me, a wide smile on his face.

"Aveeno Bennet. My old friend. I would say it was nice to see you, but…" he pointed towards the two vampires swallowing in pain.

"Hello, Marcellus."

The air was stale in his quarters, I wanted to say bedroom, but I knew vampires never really held the desire to sleep. Also, I knew Marcellus, he hardly used a bed for sleeping. Books were sprawled around the room, he offered me a double rocks glass with brown liquor filled halfway. The Jack Daniels aroma closeting my nostrils. I lifted my hand in resistment.

"A Bennet witch that doesn't drink. I'll be damned."

"Oh shut up, Marcellus. I actually don't drink in the day time, not that you could tell the difference." I let go in a sharp remark, he repaid me with a coy smile before flashing in front of my face. His glared turned flirtatious and I knew where his mind was traveling. I lifted my eyebrow- slipping onto his crimson red comforter.

"I have my guys all around, you will have to be extremely quiet," He growled into my ear. I could feel his member growing slightly under his denim pants.

"None of them know yet?"

"Know what, Aveeno?"

"That you are not straight. Marcellus, you're still-" He gripped my neck abruptly, I could feel the breath escape from my chest with his clasp, he was suffocating me. I repelled my power, calling forth the magic of the city, casting my energy upon him. Marcellus backed in shrieking pain, reaching towards his head.

"You know I love it when you play dirty." He straightened his dusty brown jacket. "I apologize for getting rough with you. I got a lot on my plate, I don't need more problems with you."

"So I hear. No need to snap my neck off."

"I said I was sorry," he inched closer to me, his smile slowly returning. "So, tell me-" he murmured in my ear. "What brings you back to New Orleans?" I ignored our almost argument, pretending to be interested in one of the books.

"There are whispers, Marcellus." I moved from his grace, falling away from his grasp. "The spirits are communicating with these ancestors of New Orleans, that never happens on occasion."

"You telling me they don't have weekly tea parties?"

"I'm not joking, Marcellus. Someone is hemorrhaging magic from everywhere, and it's causing the other side to shake." My voice came out harshly. "Something is bound to happen within the air soon, something big." His gaze moved from the floor to my eyes, he moved closer.

"Have you seen anything? Tell me everything."

"Are you willing to tell me everything?"

Marcellus moved away from me, peering through a cut in the wall, looking over the balcony at his army. Sorry, family. He moved back towards me, pulling my arm into dark corridors, the ancient passageways lit by a mere candle in a holder. His feet moved a tad faster than mine, and he seemed to be dragging me in the wind. We shifted into a dark room that smelled heavily of lavender and basil. I couldn't see in the darkness, but I felt his lips upon mine, his broad arms closing my waist, he lifted my body until my legs wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you," He whispered against my lips, reaching his lower hand down to his crotch.

"I missed you too Marcellus, but we know how things ended last time."

"A lot of fireworks!"

"And a werewolf massacre. Which I only allowed because that Gyro-bitch was annoying and bothering the witches in 1952, I never forget a grudge."

"Guerrera." Marcellus corrected.

"Bottom line, it cannot happen again."

"Her family is mortal now, they can't change on a full moon. As for the other part, well, why not?" He licked the nape of my neck, his erect penis slipping out of his unbuckled pants. It was becoming hard to say 'No' when all I wanted to do was scream 'Yes'.

"Marcellus."

"You know you are the only person who still calls me Marcellus. My name is Marcel, Aveeno." The way my name rolled off his tongue, I felt every depth of my sexual incompetence call forth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, replacing my legs around his waist once more. He took my face into his own, throwing me against a desk chair, he scrambled to my side in a flash- ripping my shirt from my chest. I moved off the chair, placing my lips on his, unbuckling his pants hastily. Marcel crouched on top of me, his tongue reached my nose. Our chuckles hugging each other, he grabbed for me once more. I pinned him to the desk, his moans filled the air and excited me to a point where my magic began to roam free. Along with my further resistance.

"Screw it."


	2. Chapter 2

"I forgot how entertaining you could be, Aveeno." Marcel gripped the back of my neck, a broad smile on his face. He seemed amused by his conquer for my promiscuity. I had to admit, I was a tad amused, yet remaining in a state of confusion. None of his guys have come for us, well- for him. Yet, he was king of the quarter. Where were his men when we were rumbling in his un-slumbered sheets.  
"Was that a compliment?" I mused. "How many times did we go? Three? Four?"

"Turn into a vampire, won't seem so tiring." He kissed my lips slightly.

"I'm good with my _No wrinkle potion_. Kept me alive and well for this long." My lips pursed before thinking of continuing, but I do. "I have a question."  
"For you, anything. The things you've done for me, anything." Marcel drew closer, grabbing my jaw into his palm.  
"How did you do it?" The question scrambled off, I didn't know where it came from. Not to say I didn't want to know- of course, I wanted to know how Marcel took control of the quarter from the witches. But he seemed as though that secret was too precious to expose.  
I couldn't blame him, who was I to continuously come to New Orleans expecting he will leave his city behind, or forget about his eternal first love, Rebekah. He drew back before taking a breath. His stare appeared from the covers, he stared deeply into my eyes. My palm lifted towards the ceiling, pulsated tones filled the air and a crackle gave free.  
"You can talk freely now," I informed.  
"Remember that Harvest ritual I was telling you about, the one where they were slaughtering children?" I nodded when suitable. "Well, My guys and I stopped it."  
"So the witches have no magic?"  
"Ah, yes. But not for long. Unfortunately, we got there late, more than half of the girls throats were cut."  
"That's horrible. The last girl, what is she doing for her coven? Does she even still practice." His glare faced the window, I instantly grabbed for his chin.  
"Marcellus Gerard, you didn't kill that girl."  
"You know my rules!" He growled slightly, "Never hurt children, that was my whole purpose for going there."  
"Really, I thought maybe it was for power."  
"Aveeno, stop. Davina is fine. She is alive and well. You could even meet her if you like."  
"Hmm. Alive and well." I propped myself off of the bed, moving towards my clothes. "I heard Klaus Mikaelson was back in town. His presence stinks up the quarter."  
"I figured you might mention him sooner or later. Klaus is a friend, not my enemy. He saved my life from some witch the other night."  
"You mean he killed her." I pressed on.  
"She was out of control. In allegiance with Thierry."  
"Wait, what?" I would've laughed if his face didn't remain content in anguish. "Marcel, Thierry was one of your most loyal guys. You sent me countless messages about him. You've known him for almost seventy years."  
"Yeah, same thing I said. But I can't deny proof."  
"What proof?"  
"His witch had my daylight spell. Only he knew where I kept it."  
"Marcellus."  
"Aveeno, leave it." I studied his facial features, the salt and pepper bread growing wildly, his caesar was darker than usual. He was the most perfect structured caveman my eyes has ever captured.

"How come none of your guys have come for us?" I asked changing the subject. He smiled, reaching over to grab his cellphone, he exposed the screen filled with text messages. He told his guys to leave the compound for the rest of the day. _What a sweetheart._ "Don't think just because you sent them away I'm going to stick around."

"So why did you come?"

"What?"

"Why did you come?" I was struck silent, truthfully clueless where to approach the question. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but who knew how vampires felt about relationships and emotions. Did they have any besides their own pleasure? He sure didn't want a relationship a century ago. Within my silence, he zoomed in front of my face, the blanket fell from my grasp, our nude forms melded together. "Why did you come?"

"Because I care about you! Because I knew something was going down in the quarter… And-"

"And what?"

"I don't want you to die Marcel. With Klaus here, with all three originals here, forever doesn't seem so long."

"Stop all of that talk. This is my city. I hold control of what does down."

From his facial expression, I could tell I hit a nerve and with vampire's anger management problems, I allowed myself to forget another argument. Instead, I took a swig of the brown liquor that was sitting on the bedside for me. He graces me with a smile. "You know, you said you would never return to this place in 1919. You've been back twice."

"How's Rebekah?" The retort came freely, I tried to intact my jealous candor, but he was pulling at some dangerous strings… My heart. His smile widened, he swiftly swiped the high baller from my grasp, giving me a peck on my lips.

"After ninety-six years, I believe I'm finally starting to figure you out."

"As many times as you've walked out of my life, you can only say you've known me for twenty-two of those years. The others were spent-" I felt my breath cut short.

"What happened to you, Aveeno? Where have you been all this time?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it does to me."

"Marcel, you have your secrets, I have mine."

"That's not good enough for me." He grabbed my forearm, taking me towards the bed.

"What are you not telling me, Aveeno?"

"When Papa Tunde came into town, what happened after?"

"Klaus killed him…" Marcel drew silent, he shook his head. "I helped."

"He couldn't defeat Klaus?"

"Has anyone been able to take down Klaus?"

"No. Which is why I am here." Gathering my clothes, I moved towards his bathroom. "Take me to Davina, I would like to have a talk with her."


	3. Chapter 3

Marcel carried me to a high towered church, moving at the speed of lightening, we got there in under five minutes. The air within the church reeked of misused power. Pain, torment, and grief. Given my background knowledge in the magic of _Expression_ , I could sense how many deaths had occurred on this turf, and how many were to come. He placed me down by the doorway leading into the sanctuary, I glanced at the candles that someone had left lit, yet the wax had well run over. The place was in its early stages of recovery. Reminisce of splattered blood pillared the walls.

"What happened here?" I gasped, using my hand to massage the back of my neck and ease my nerves. It was going to take me a lot to get used to being in this atmosphere. I mean, there has been death on my ventures, just not by supernatural folk.

"Pastor's nephew had a mental breakdown, killed his classmates."

"Wicked bible study." Marcel chuckled, taking my hand into his own, he leads me into a dark hallway leading to a grand, spiral staircase. The same touch of power now gave way, leading more and more as we climbed the stairs. He allowed our grip to loosen and fall, instead, he gripped the doorknob.

A shallow light gave way from the cease, broadening to show a band of lamps in the far corner of the attic, mirrors hovered before them. My steps were made into thuds on the light panels of the floor, I heard another creak in the floorboard, I grew to wait for her to make her presence known.

"Marcel, you didn't tell me she was so crafty with magic." I sniffed the air, I could taste her invisibility spell, that was the cause for the power I felt while walking to her door. His smile told me he knew all too well of her many talents, yet- I didn't know how to feel about his delight. There was more to her invisibility spell, something I could no longer see. Actually, a whole side of the attic I couldn't see, it was cloaked in darkness, smelled disturbingly pleasant of vervain. _What was this little witch cooking up?_

"Who is this Marcel?" Her voice appeared from air, and it took me twice before her figure came into vision. The long flowing eggshell dress clung to her ankles, her hair gently resting on her shoulders, the runic symbols on her bangles screamed in radiance. My first time witnessing a _Harvest girl,_ alive anyway.

"Hey D, this is my friend from back in the days. He use' to run wild in the quarter, I believe he knows Sabine."

"I know of her family. Nice girl." I corrected, Davina let go a giggle. I had to admit, she was beautiful, the way her frown lines creased in glorious smiles, the twinkle of Atlantic green irises, she held slight makeup- yet was swarming in angelic structures. _She was radiant_.

"So who are you?" she repeated once more, taking up a hint of attitude. I like her.

"Aveeno." She giggled once more.

"Like the lotion?"

"Who do you think slept with the man who made it? It was supposed to be a lubricant." I retorted. Marcel playfully nudged my shoulder. Davina smiled approvingly, I felt the tension release in the air.

"You're funny,"

"I've had quite a few lives to develop this sense of humor. Now, may we talk, ?" She looked at me for a moment before nodding her head, we stared in silence, waiting for the right moment, but we didn't have to say anything.

Marcel stood from his chair, "I understand, Witch business, I'll excuse myself. Aveeno, take care of my girl."

"I always do."

Davina took a seat in the chair opposite from her vanity place. Various blush patterns and lipstick sticks laid sprawled on the counter, brushes upright in a holder. She plucked on from the base, gently stroking the sides of her cheeks.

"I feel like I know you." she announced suddenly, I moved towards a chair opposite from the dark side of the room.

"All witches have a sense of familiarity. Maybe it's that you are sensing?"

"Maybe," she continued brushing but changed her glance to look at me. "So, you're a witch like me. That's cool."

"You don't seem happy to be a witch."

"Have you ever heard of the Harvest ritual?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I am one of the last harvest girls, Marcel saved me from them. They killed those girls, and they want to do the same with me."

"The legend says you will be resurrected."

"A legend… _The legends_. That's ancestor's lingo for, _'give me sacrifice for more power'_. Those girls are still dead, none has resurrected yet."

"Well, the ritual isn't complete, now is it?" I let go in a smart remark. She finally placed the brush down, dawning her attention all to me.

"Have you ever saw this ritual with your own eyes?" She stared at me deeply, it was hard to keep my eyes on her heavy glare.

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Yeah, I asked around the quarter, no one else has either. No one remembers the girls waking up… What if I don't." Her face shadowed with gloom, I felt it hard not to comfort her.

"I had no intent on coming to meet you in order to judge, or make you feel bad about your decision. My opinion doesn't matter compared to what you feel comfortable with. Davina Claire, I am much like you. I had to run from a life I despised, from a family built on protecting the wrong things, for the wrong reasons. I know what it's like to be forced to do something that will shatter your whole life, trust me, I know.

"Even though I may appear to be this age, I have a lot more years on my side. Been to war, started wars, and even mended them as well. However, there is no way to mend a war properly when it's in your own backyard. I understand."

"At least one witch does. Everyone thinks I'm just crazy. I hear them, and it makes me sick."

"You're not crazy. You are a witch, a harvest girl, but most importantly, a teenager. Unfortunately, we all don't get the same luxurious life like _Sabrina_. Now, I know you are a smart girl, what is your escape plan?"

"Escape plan?" her dark eyebrows hung together in confusion.

"Okay, let's say the harvest doesn't go through-"

"It won't," she interrupted.

"Okay, cool. You have all that power inside of you, are you going to stay in New Orleans and just allow it to go to waste?"

"It will fade away."

"Power like that doesn't fade, my dear. Sooner or later, you will have to place it somewhere, or keep it for yourself."

"I can place the power somewhere?"

"Yes, ma'am. Hasn't anyone taught you these spells?" I knew I was a late bloomer given my mother's execution in the 1800s, I basically had to learn everything myself, this girl had a coven, why didn't they teach her important spells? I've never heard of a Harvest ritual using blind sheep for their practice.

She moved away from her chair and instead went towards the window, this time- I was the one confused. There were so many people out on the street, green grenade cups- some containers with a shark sticking from the brim, all different colors. Everyone looked happy, oblivious to the real world.

"Tell me more about you," she exclaimed as we watched birds flock pass. "You seem like you know a lot about this stuff."

"I've done a lot of reading over the centuries."

"Where are you from?"

"I was born in Mystic falls in 1803. My mother's name was Emily Bennet, she died in a witch execution."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you half vampire? Can witches be half vampire?" I mustered a chuckle, shaking my head.

"Not a vampire, just a witch with very good skin." I retorted, and we shared a laugh before continuing. "My means for survival were complicated in the beginning. Body jumping is really messy. So, I found an elixir that enables my body from aging. This brings two problems, the ancestors do not like when witches tamper with the balance of nature; it messes things up for their world.

"It didn't help much when I came to New Orleans and met Marcel, that is when problem two fell through. The spirits wanted me gone, wiped out. However, given all that my mother has done for vast communities of witches, they granted me a pass. I am trapped in this body for eternally, yet limited to nine lives."

"After those nine lives are up?"

"No clue, this is why I don't remain in supernatural communities for long. I have eight lives left, I'll be damned if I'm losing anymore."

"I won't get the same deal you got."

"Maybe, maybe not… I cannot make that decision for you. Think about it, everything will come to you, I have no doubt Davina."

"Thank you, Aveeno. Thank you so much."

"No problem. Just do me a favor, think of yourself first. No matter what, think of yourself first. That's the only way a witch can survive this life."


	4. Chapter 4

Lafayette Cemetery never seemed so _dank,_ so dark, and oh so depressing. I mean, I knew it was a cemetery, but _holy hell._ Did nothing in New Orleans have light to it anymore? I touched the base of the gate, the atmosphere was cold, yet the magic that ran through was radiant. I moved towards the only colosseum I knew, the one the witches brought me to when I was younger. See, there's more to my story than I've been letting on, but I'm stopping myself from traveling down that path too soon, it might enable me from leaving.

"Thought I might find you here." Sophie Deveraux looked up from a long strip of parchment paper, she held a broad smile on her face.

"Aveeno, Marcel call you to come save him?"

"I came here on my own behalf. Don't do that to me, Soph." Her gaze dropped down once more. I contemplated my steps towards her. "Will you tell me what's going on?"

"It's New Orleans witch business."

"I was once a New Orleans witch! Or have you forgotten? While Safari destroyed half of what the witches built, we were left powerless. Who was here to help mend the pieces back?"

"And then you left after!"

"I wasn't supposed to be here! You knew I wasn't supposed to be here! Marcellus would've slaughtered you and me! Don't be upset." I inched closer to her, placing my hands on top of hers.

"I'm not upset, I'm tired. Tired of all of this fighting for no outcome! While witches like you have no problem because you don't have to think about harvest rituals,"

"Hey, you can help how you are born. None of us can." I waited more before speaking, in all honesty, I wasn't afraid of Sophie, I just know how much her niece meant to her, I was afraid of her in this state. "what could I say that would help the situation?"

"You could kill all the vampires and let the witches take what's ours."

"You know I cannot do that."

"Why not, Aveeno."

"Because that's not my place, Sophie! I keep coming back to New Orleans to help the witches because I use to be one of you guys. I moved on. I should move on. I'm lying coming back here."

"Lying to who? Marcel? Or yourself? Because maybe a tiny thread of you is saying that you need to help the witches." I backed away from her, moving towards the doorway.

"This is not why I came here."

"Then why?" she shrugged. Sophie moved from behind one of the altar pillars and came close to meeting my face. "Why did you come here, Aveeno?"

"I'm getting really sick of people asking me that question," she sighed at my remark, grabbing the rest of her contents into her bag before slipping passed me. I jogged out of the coliseum door to keep up with her, shuffling along the dirt path.

Sophie held eyes focused on intent, one that forced me into a panic, yet I held a still tongue. The exchange was all very confusing. I wanted to grab out and hold her, but I felt as though she didn't want my embrace. She didn't want a friend… Ms. Deveraux wanted revenge. Which only made me press harder. Trying to fill my blind spots. "Where is Jane-Ann?"

Sophie continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge my words. She turned on the corner so it made it hard to grasp her arm fully. "Sophie!" Her stride was faster, almost like she was leading me somewhere. "Stop being immature! Sophie!" she curled behind a humongous gravestone, I hadn't looked carefully where she was leading me until now. I slowed my stride when I curled around her family's burial plots. I knew what was next to come. "How did it happen?"

"She was caught doing magic in the quarter."

"What the hell, Jane!"

"It was for a good cause! We could win this. With careful planning."

"Win what? Sophie, do I even want to know what's going on?"  
"The Originals are back, Aveeno. This changes everything."

"How so? Klaus will never kill Marcel and he will never be out of the quarter! Or New Orleans, Soph! This plan is dangerous."

"Yeah? What else do I have left to lose."

"Your life!"

"Then I will be with Monique, and Jane-Ann."

I plopped down onto a plant holder, the roses were down at my boot instead, which made me feel even worse. I had no advice, no words of wisdom like before, she was determined, sorry- scratch that, _hell bent_ on doing whatever was needed for this plan to work. Nothing I said now would stop her, nothing anyone said would stop her. Sophie stopped midway in walking taking a glance back at me. She continued on for two more strides, but then slowly retreated back. I looked up at her face that looked radiant while eclipsing the sun, she rolled her eyes. Sophie chucked the bag in my lap, opening the front flap and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. The tombstone next to me had an offering cup next to the nameplate. I filled the cup to the brim before taking a hefty swig from the bottle. Soon enough, we were playing a game of _'hot potato'_ just with _Jack Daniels_.

"There use to be order," she looked at me once I started speaking. "A long time ago. Witches held a place in what goes on, everyone held a place in what went on. For years, the community was built on alliances and companionship. New Orleans was the one place where supernatural folk felt comfortable coming and roaming free. How did it all sink so low."

"Tell me about it."

"Sadly, it still has sunk…"

"What?"

"It's sunk. New Orleans, it has sunken and been washed in blood. Vampires came and took over, and you just invited more into the mix, thinking that it would solve your problems. I'm sorry… I'm sorry that I have the power to roam the world and still have the ability to do magic. I am truly sorry, however, this is your home, New Orleans is your home! Instead of fighting, you surrendered more of the land to vampires. Even if I wanted to help you, Sophie… The city is drowning in blood. Vampires own it now." she walked away from me without a further word.

I wandered around the cemetery long after Sophie had left, something in the linings of this graveyard called me to remain in place. Maybe I was looking for alternate solutions, or different alternatives to get out of New Orleans but to do so with everyone safe. I was leaving behind so many lives I had sought to forget, so many complications I thought I left in my past. For example, Marcel. What the hell came over me this morning? I came to New Orleans to do one thing, one thing only. When did my course change? Even still, I couldn't stop myself from feeling the desperado in my voice when I address him. I was an entirely different person.

The air shifted and I felt the presence of someone casting in the air. Actually, a whole coven casting. I would've never given noticed to it if I didn't notice the unfamiliar imbalance to it. Whoever was casting wasn't a New Orleans witch anymore, but they were drawing from its power. Silently calling to every plot in the graveyard for power. Light from the sky dimmed as the warm Louisiana sun shortly sunk beneath the Mississippi. I curled around several statues in the growing dark, the sun apparently didn't want me to find who was casting because shadows mixed in with each other, making it hard to tell which direction I was going in. The tombstones became too identical, almost as if they were replicating themselves. The large gate where I once entered could be seen in the short feet. It wasn't until I caught the sparrow with the broken winged tip; that I noticed what was going on. I lifted my arms in agonizing humiliation.

"I created that trick you simple minded witch!" I called out to the air. Whoever was casting this spell was using the ancestors of New Orleans behind these witches backs. And the ancestors were allowing it to happen! I walked to the exit in complete frustration, I was not to be fooled with, especially not from witches I practically raised! "I will find out what's going on here, and when I do- let's just hope you're a friend and not foe."


	5. Chapter 5

Canal and Bourbon St smelled differently now. I didn't mean since I've been here before, I meant from the last few hours I walked down this path with my loud band. The midnight crew from Hotel St. Helene had just clocked out from work, their smiles gesturing towards Bourbon. They relished in the feel of safety because the police precinct was right on the corner; if only they knew of the real danger police officers could not control. There was a time where that was me. Not literally, I would never be caught dead working in a hotel… But the group of friends was me. With my friends. Relishing in the time of safety in New Orleans. God, I'll tell you. Being the same age for a long period of time really takes a lot out of you. Constantly reminding yourself which year it was, or how old you actually are. After you turn a hundred years old it becomes tedious to keep track, and long after my siblings passed away- I remained to tell the story. Things weren't always this complicated in New Orleans. We had order, and things were running smoothly. There were three who made sure the city flourished, they built the city- cared for it as their child… And watched it burn. Niklaus, Rebekah, and Elijah Mikaelson were the first originals to acknowledge New Orleans. I say 'acknowledge' because it was here before their arrival, and it was a triumphant land. A land where witches came for peace, and prayer. And it remained so even after they walked on land. _We have Elijah to thank for this._ We had order, we also still held peace, yet- the power is what was vanishing. Now, given I am talking about witches, you're thinking I mean actual power, and in a matter of speaking- I do. The witches held all the magic in their ancestral background, however, the vampires swept in. Even with the power the witches held, the supernatural magnetic pull is what brought the Originals to this land; not only them, though. It brought werewolves, shapeshifters, and at one point, The Travelers. Was New Orleans really the land of the witches anymore?

The wind glided gently past me and I felt the heat of another. He moved close to me, enveloping me in his arms. My dear Marcel Gerard. He clasped his hands around my denim jacket, I embraced his arms without any words, I hadn't known what to say even if I tried.

And in a way I knew I had the right words to say. This wasn't my town anymore… I didn't belong here. Nothing about the feng shui of this town grazed my skin with easiness, and I had no choice but my silence. He knew it well. I've done the trick once before.

Marcel reached beneath my neck to cradle my chin, I couldn't face myself to look him in the eyes, but that's exactly what he pushed my face to do. The more and more I resisted, the more eager his twist got. I finally seized my hold.

"You're leaving again. Aren't you?" His words were crisp. Harsh. His eyes were gently matching- in a squinting position that could see pillars into my soul.

"Marcel Gerard, when did you start catching feelings for lil ole me?" Even through my sarcasm, I could sense the distress, I'm not the only one who noticed. He stroked his goatee, looking somewhere else besides my eyes- probably because they held the truth more than ever.

"Aveeno."

"Marcellus."

"This is not my town. You know that... I'm sorry, I was trying. I was going to try… Maybe stay here, go for whatever normal life I could possibly have- with you…" I felt my voice break shortly before continuing. "You banished me once before. You can do it again."

"That was out of anger. You said you didn't want to return, so I made it easy, I did all of that for you."

Tourist moved passed us hastily, I have no idea why I smiled at them, but I guess some part of me wanted this situation to remain normal if there was a way given the way they looked at us. I wondered if I forgot to take off my 'Look, I'm a witch.' sweatshirt I bought from the gift shop. Or maybe my 'I'm with vampire' undershirt was exposed.

Even though there was an obvious irritation within Marcel's thoughts, I felt to push farther.

"May I see Davina before I leave? We had a real lovely chat, I would hate to leave without saying goodbye to her." Marcel surveyed me for a second before holding his hand out for me. I held my breath, assuming he was going to zip us away, however, we remained in place. His eyes grabbed hold to mine and I felt my legs fall into a pit of temporary paralysis. A new energy surged through my bones, one different from the one he held this morning.

The words fell out of my mouth more than me actually saying each one deliberately and carefully, more like a word slug. "You love Rebekah, Marcel. We established that when we were friends, that's the whole reason I introduced you to Papa Tunde. You wanted a way to her heart, I found you one- and you still remain there. As she does for you. We agreed to be friends."

"So you have all the answers?"

"No… However, we have been down this road before, and it ends the same way it starts- me making a promise to myself not to hurt you the way she has, not to leave you like she did… But I fail almost every time I come back to this horrid city."

"Things are different now, Aveeno. Times have definitely changed, and Rebekah is not my priority."

"Things are different, but you are not, Marcel. You are the same man I fell in love with in 1919. Except now you have a daughter." I thought he would laugh at my retort but his face remained intact. I know the way it seemed. It seemed as though I was making a joke out of everything with my smart remarks and candor behavior, but that was the only way I knew how to cope with the pain of asking to see Davina again before I would make my departure. I was scared to tell him I was leaving once more. Twice in one stay seemed overly barbaric.

He understood the words between my silence- securely tightening on my hand. I had no more words to say anymore, and he knew. Without another word, we were zooming the streets of Nola with his vamp' speed.

The church was like I remembered it, exactly how I remembered it. The candles in the holsters, the blood stains on the walls, it all remained the same as earlier- and still gave me the eerie feeling of familiarity. My voice came out as a whisper. "I have a question. Who takes care of the church now?"

"The O'Connell family."

"I remember them. Mortal… The family, they still alive? I only ask because of the story… And the blood."

"Two."

"Only two members?"

"A lot has happened in New Orleans, I would tell you more- but you're leaving soon; so what would be the sense."

"Marcel."

"I'm not being salty. I'm just keeping it real. It's cool, when you leave- you always come back." He hissed the words passionately and I wanted to grab him right at the moment. Kiss him until there was nothing else for him to do but rip my clothes off. Then, I thought about all the blood that has probably splattered all over these floors. I lightly gave up on the idea. For obvious reasons.

Rolling in blood would only be a turn on for one of us, and that was not me.

I climbed the long escalade of stairs, feeling the same repertoire in power as before. Yet, the power seemed more abundant, and protruding every which way. I contemplated throwing myself against the door, but instead, swiftly knocked in a gentle tone. There was no answer. I tried once more.

Marcel watched me cautiously from the edge of the bottom step, his eyes watching with intent. I raised my hand to calm his nerves, easing my hand to the doorknob and twisting the hedges free. Warm orange shades caressed my skin as her peach blinds fluttered in front of an open window. I gestured back to the front of the room to tell Marcel everything was alright, then I shut the door. Davina laid soundly asleep on her bed. I contemplating waking her up, but part of me knew the easy way to do this. I walked over to her vanity area and stared at myself in the mirror.

All these years and I still prefer my original body more than any of the others I've ever jumped into. The way all of my pants hugs low on my waist, but just tight enough to never need a belt or the way all of my shirts were fitted exactly how I like them. My body seemed to hold a shaping complex, besides Marcel likes me better… I cut the thought off before it even reproached. The only way I could endure leaving was to endure the pain of not thinking of what I was leaving behind.

My hand instantly grabbed for a shade of lipstick that seemed to be a mixture of a plum and candy apple red. It seemed suitable for my skin tone, and I solidly contemplated chalking on the lip applier. I didn't stop my hands much as they glided towards my lips, smearing the shade onto my pucker. Shortly after I pressed the red stem to the mirror, scribbling lightly. _'You are not a Harvest girl, you are not a weapon, you are not a toy, and you are certainly not a mistake. You are a goddess Davina Claire, start believing you are one. Remember, if all does not work out here, I am only one locator spell away. Us witches have to stick together. Stay Safe, Aveeno.'_ I pressed my lips at the end of my name and an actual tear fell from my eye with the same precision. Please be safe Davina.


	6. Chapter 6

1864 Mystic Falls

Emily Bennett and Annabelle Zhu walked briskly through the woods of Mystic Falls. Taking the early comet dew as a sense of direction, Emily dragged the young whimpering girl. Halfheartedly afraid the girl's muffled cries would lead the town's huntsmen their direction. Mystic Falls' vampire population was just discovered by the city's council, and through nonexistent tears, Emily knows she will be next. The sudden thought to fight her intruders becomes apparent. However, she knows subconsciously the true implications of that matter. She had made her bed when she first dealt with Katherina Petrova, now she would have to pay the consequences. There were only two things Emily had enough energy for, and both led to ensuring her generation's safety.

Through the bellows of Anna's sobs on one ear and the spirits forcefully whispering on the other- Emily called forth all of her power in the hour. The comet was approaching and she had to get in the serene headspace _if it were even possible_. Her mind mirrored dramatically over her children. Legs giving away shortly with the thought of her last born son, Kaos. Barely the age of one- she called for all the spirits that guided her once before to take him upon their wing. The message tore her heart to shreds. Delphine, her soft golden oreo face- barely reaching the age of ten yet. Emily saw the days where she would no longer dress her daughter's pigtails with blue ribbons.

The scene only forced more, calling up her eldest daughter's face, the smooth amaretto skin, her sun goddess child. Tiana loved to be outside, and Katherine never condemned the children to their quarters behind the house, so they roamed free as much as possible. Mr. Salvatore was always a good host towards the girl, never caressed her in an inappropriate way; Tiana always figured it was because of the power he knew her mother held, or maybe it was because he thought Tiana held some sort of magic. In truth of it all, Tiana saw the way Mystic falls behaved towards _Others_ , she wouldn't be condemned to being burned or have her head decapitated.

Emily blinked away the tears of another one of her children, she couldn't bare the sequence of more but their faces poured more and more into her thoughts. Aveeno's face shined through her tears, only pulling for more… From the moment she gave birth to her firstborn son she promised to teach him everything he needed to know to make it within the world. From the moment she touched her child's hands- she knew of the gift he held. It was partly the reason she never pressured Tiana to practice the craft. She knew where the real power lied in the Bennett line. So she made it her goal to teach him whatever he would need to not be a common housemaid. She instilled him with the power to not only compel his Slave owners with his natural charm, but she handed Aveeno the power to take control if he chooses.

Emily knew what was causing her memories to flood, the spirits didn't agree with her plan. She knew every balance had a particular order, and to restore balance, her life would call into effect. She would die either way, however, this way her children and her further generation would ensure safety. Even through Anna's vampire speed, her feet held no comparison to the urgency Emily held, she was too eager to get to Fell's Church, and though Anna knew the deed would save her mother, she pouted her way towards the place of worship/ vampire solitude. Emily silently rushed her as she knew Anna would be eager to save her mother, but the girl seemed oblivious to the comfort patterns.

Their ruffled skirts rustling around twigs and dirt as they shuffle passed, a swift wind ran through the air to pick with the hem of their dresses. Emily stopped in her tracks- aware of the figure before her. Her frustration growing largely. She eyed the man before her.

His short brunette hair drenched with pale sweat. His face was a sign of urgency and Emily silently wondered how he could run so fast with such tight clothes. However, she thought of his state of mind, a vampire in transition could accomplish any goal they sought before going through the change. She remembered the exact words Katherine had used, _'It's almost like being a ghost, Emily. You will never cross over to the other side if you don't resolve your problems. You'll never give up until you succeed, you'll never even get the desire to quit. Especially if the task was from your Sire. Why do you think he's so perfect?'_

"We have a deal, don't we?"

"We have discussed it, the deed is to be done." Emily's Creole tongue came forth.

Damon Salvatore parted a short smile, not one built of amusement- however, more of grim depression.

"Emily, I cannot lose her, I will not lose her. I need a clear answer on this." Through the linings of his transition Emily could see his thirst for blood, she remembered even though Anna had seemed like a small whimpering girl, she was actually the only human/witch here. And even when she could defeat Damon with the flick of her fingers, she didn't want to waste her energy on killing the only route to safety her children held. Instead, she nodded in agreement to Damon's demand.

"To save one, I must save all. Tis' the way Ms. Katherine would've wanted." Even passed Katherine's betrayal; Emily remained faithful, it wasn't the fact that she was a vampire. It was more so that Katherine had saved her life more than once before, this would be her final act of kindness to Ms. Petrova. Then she would be free, fully. "If I do this, you say my children will live on, have a life beyond this madness."

"I will make sure they will live full abundant lives," Damon promised. Emily studied his smooth hair, the soft trim of his facial hair, and the comparison to his gorgeous set of mystical midnight brown irises. She could see exactly why Katherine had found the man so attractive, even she found him attractive- everyone found Damon Salvatore attractive.

"Katherine will live. So will the others. When the time comes, you'll know what to do. However, you'll need the crystal to do so."

"Crystal? What crystal?" Damon gawked around nervously, his dark black hair swung in his face.

"I will supply you with everything. Hush." Emily urged. "When the comet is over- Tiana will know how to help them escape- Aveeno will help, he's rather fond of you- he should want to help. Only their power will allow the tomb to open. Their power combined."

"Only them. Gotcha." Damon glanced around awkwardly once more. Emily felt a sudden uneasiness and pressed harder towards Fell's Church.

"Just make sure my children are safe."

I blinked the memory away painfully. I truly hated when the spirits barged into my life and forced me to conjure a memory long forgotten, a memory I had no right in knowing. It seemed more than an invasion of privacy- it was almost like a total body take over. Almost like I was saying, 'Do what you want with my body, baby.' But yet, not saying it whatsoever. I remembered a time my mother forced me to practice spells, I relished in the delight of knowing my family was special. Even when my older sister Tiana didn't. I fell in love with the notion of having power- and real power, not that fake crap they spout on television. Sabrina the teenage witch or Charmed. That was child's play compared to this.

That was until I knew what real power had actually consisted of…

The day I saw Emily Bennett cast a spell to seal a tomb of two dozen vampires.

Mist from the Mississippi river brushed against my face. Others would be horrified, tourist I mean… I quite frankly didn't care. The liquids that have touched my face, I'm surprised I didn't have more allergic reactions or breakouts.

The warm sunrise and the smell of pancakes protruded from every restaurant in Nola, as it grazed my skin and nose. Another breeze ran through the air and it was replaced with the smell of the cologne _One Million_. I knew the smell well, in fact- I was the one who picked it out when his girlfriend couldn't stand any other scent in her collection. My eyes watered before I even attempted at turning back. The thought killed me because I haven't even thought of facing him until I made it close to Virginia. I blinked away the solid tears before spinning back toward the entrance of Cafe De Monde, his smile already welcoming my grace.

"Would say I'm surprised to see you but I've been dreaming about you all morning. Hello, Damon."


	7. Chapter 7

Damon Salvatore paced aimlessly on The Crescent City Connection. His leather black jacket dancing dangerously in the wind, his menacing black eyes wandering around the dirt path we stood on. Now that I noticed it, he did always wear black, the thought would've made me laugh if I wasn't half afraid of Damon's glare. His eyes rang of a tune that was sooooo far away I could not even get it to stop ringing, I couldn't force his concentration on my face. But then- his stare pierced my core. I could see the disappointed frowned on his lips and my heart panicked.

"I promised your mother I would keep you safe, so you come to New Orleans." Through his smart comment, I parted a heartfelt chuckle. Memories of my past with Damon flooded now more than ever- I slowly felt the same way my mother had that night in Mystic Falls.

Desperate to run.

Damon had lived up to his promise to my mother, and even after my siblings had passed- he watched over me. Protected me. In fact, it has him who assisted me in finding a way to restore my original body. Since I never knew of my father, Damon posed as one. You tell this story to everyone and they gasp. Let's just say Damon wouldn't be voted Class President in any sane school. More like… ' _Most likely to rip out a teacher's heart'_. But that's exactly what attracted me to him as a child, I loved how dangerous he was. How cunning his mind worked. Even from a young age, I knew he was playing my mother to get his way… _Was it wrong for me to enjoy the thrill?_

"Aveeno, look at me." It was more than compulsion that forced my chin up… Maybe a hidden sense of paternity? However, I still obeyed. Damon squinted his eyes. "Why did you come back here?"

I knew Damon, he wanted an answer… How could I tell him I don't have one. The veins in his neck flexed as his irritation grew tiresome. "I came to visit a witch. She was in need of my help. You know I love helping the poor and whatnot." Damon studied my face, taking in every molecule for its trace of honesty. I don't even know why I bothered lying- he would know straight away… He's practically the one who stamped my license in the art of double-crossing. He pursed his lips in a fine line and I sighed. "Wanna' get some coffee?"

"I'll take mine with bourbon."

Unfortunately, Cafe Du Monde didn't have any bourbon or whiskey in stock to give to Damon, but did that stop him? No. He compelled the Server's Assistant to go on break and bring him back a bottle of Jameson from the nearest Liquor store. I laughed hysterically as we took our seats in the far emptier space of the restaurant. The powder from my beignets fell onto my creme V-neck shirt. Damon seemed amused, but never actually parted a smile. I placed down the pastry, finally taking his facial expression in the light of the humongous restaurant. The pose curse of his lips, the disguise in his eyebrows drawn together. Even his energy was off, and it was more than just the off pattern of the cafe's green and white… I would've noticed earlier if I wasn't so into my feelings. We remained in closed silence as I ate my doughnut. With him just watching me… Silently.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you come back here, Aveeno?" Damon ignored my question and neglected to even allow me to answer his. "You were happy in London, you even sent Elena and me postcards from Toulouse. What made you come back?"

"I'm in love with a vampire." The words slipped off my tongue without a thought in mind. Almost as if my tongue found some comfort in its truth.

"A vampire. I always knew you had the attraction for me when you were younger, but-"

"Don't be a dick, Damon. That's gross." I chuckled.

"Who is he? Please don't tell me one of those baby vamps your old flame sired."

"Not exactly one of his baby vamps…"

"Aveeno Bennet Salvatore. I will crush your windpipes." He beckoned in my silence, wiping his brow furiously.

"Please, do not tell me the next words out of your mouth are going to be Marcel Gerard. Don't even make me think for a second that you thought I would allow you to do this. Stay here and be their witch protection project. You gotta be kidding me."

"Damon. Relax." I hushed my vampire daddy, silently kicking him under the table as the busboy came back to our side with a brown paper bag. Damon held a small smirk, gently taking the bottle from the boy's hands and replacing it with a twenty. "I would've gone for you if you would've given me twenty bucks." Damon pulled more bills from the clip of his wallet, placing a wad in my hand.

"I told you, if you ever need money, call me." He sat back within his chair, I tucked the money into my pocket and finished on my doughnut. "I'm only going to ask you once more, what is the real reason you came back to this dreaded place?"

"I wasn't completely lying either time I told you my response. I'm sorry you do not like Marcel, but I did fall in love with him, just like you did with Elena. You knew how much people disapproved, yet you guys are still pushing." His face turned soft when I mentioned his girlfriend's name.

"Aveeno, there are more things you have to consider. You told me he banned you, now all of a sudden he wants you in his kingdom? And his buddy Klaus just so happen to be in the same city? I raised you smarter, son."

"Damon."

"You told him you weren't coming back in 1919, did he come after you? Even long after you found out it was Michael who destroyed the town and not Klaus, back when you tried to help… He turned his back on you. But you still go crawling back. Why?"

"I wish everyone would stop asking me this question. Why can't I just come to Nola and be a passerby? This was once my home. I still have the keys from my old condo and everything." I attempted at pretending to forget his jabs at trying to pull at my heartstrings. Damon knew all the right ways to kick me in the gut, but I knew he always did it out of love. I would just like it if he loved me a little less sometimes.

His piercing black pupils melted my confidence.

"Should I drag you back to Mystic Falls by the hem of your collar, or would you like me to carry you?"

"I'm not going back." Damon pressed his lips tightly, I waited for the outburst- and I literally had to control my natural power from rippling forward. When I say Damon was more of a dad to me than anyone- that also means I respect him as such. This rebellious act was a new for me, but I silently enjoyed the show.

"I really don't have time for this, Vee. We need to get back to Mystic Falls."

"There's more to this than my love affair, Damon." He sat back in his chair, waiting with an open ear.

"There's a witch, Davina Claire. She's a part of this crazy ritual to restore the witches power in the city, however, in order to do it- they have to kill her."

"Aren't you happy I took you away from all the coven politics?" He retorted. "Same thing I'm trying to do now."

"Damon, hush. I don't care about the ritual. I mean, I do… But that's not my main goal. When I touched Davina- I got a glimpse into her future. It was only a sudden glimpse because of the power she holds-"

"Cut to the chase, Vee."

"Davina finds a way to sever the sire bond. Like, destroy it completely." Damon showed me a smile of relief, but I was soon to come in and cut the ties to his dreams. "Someone leads her astray, and the last product is false. Instead of destroying the sire bond, she destroys the sire line."

"Which means-"

"She's not unlinking all of you. She's killing you all."


	8. Chapter 8

"To be honest, that is the least of my problems at this moment." Damon solemnly exclaimed. I fixated my eyes on his facial structure once more, besides me being in New Orleans for endangered memories, Damon held his fair share of tormented flashes of this town. My newest curiosity is what brought him here, and how exactly he got Bonnie to locate me…

"I have a question." My voice sounded exhausted, and I forced my voice to push further. There was a feeling I got last night, one that penetrated my heart and caused my whole to ripple… I've felt that feeling before, and the after effect caused more words to spew out. "I want you to be completely honest with me. I am a big boy, I have been for a while- and you know I can defeat Klaus." Damon glanced anywhere but my face. His intense eyes motioning towards the ground.

"There a question coming up anytime soon?"

"What is the real reason you came for me?"

He had to know I would place the pieces together. If there was one thing the Salvatore brothers taught me, it was always to be skeptical about first intentions. Damon hardly even flinched when I had proclaimed his death sentence to be final, all of theirs, in fact- he actually brushed pass it. His gesture continued forcing me back to Mystic Falls. I wanted to know why. For what?

"What's really going on? Elena out of control again? Stefan needs my help? Traveler trouble? I can help, just let me know what I am walking into."

"Vee, it's nothing like that." The way he couldn't look me in the eyes, _that_ is what continuously made me feel uneasy.

"So tell me, Damon, compared to what I laid on you- I hardly doubt you can top it."

"Bonnie brought Jeremy back to life." The ghostly clasp at the end of his words told me there was more, more to his story- but even the words were too harsh to grasp. The pain in my chest reemerging.

"How?" In return, my words were cold and venomous.

"Can't exactly explain the details, a spell more than likely. Aveeno-"

"I don't think you should continue speaking." My heart felt stuck in a shell of _Elmer's glue_ , unable to further collect any blood it needed to survive. My mother's wish was dying right before my eyes.

The tears I felt since the time I entered New Orleans had surfaced… I must admit, I'm not much of a cry baby- however, if I lose another witch in my family, who could blame me for distraught emotions. In fact, it felt like the tears were extending more for Bonnie, and equally for Marcellus, partly shared by Damon. Just to think, _last week I was sipping Mai Tai cocktails on a cruise ship_.

Damon gripped for my shoulder, pulling me into his arms. The cologne closing me in more and more. I tried hard to manage my sobs, however, they just continued to pour- not bothering to listen to my eager mental attempts at stopping. Once my nose started leaking I pulled my head off of Damon's shoulder, using the end of my sleeve to _pull myself together_.

"I wish I could tell you it's safe enough to come back to Mystic Falls, but I can't-"

"What do you mean? I am coming back to Mystic Falls. Regardless of how my ancestors feel about me, I will place Bonnie to rest, she is my family as well." Damon made a sound within his chest that almost startled me in my current sense of mind. Like a burp that coiled only in one spot.

"We don't exactly have her body." I pulled apart from him. "Long story, however, we are still having a funeral. Just close friends and family." His grin gestured to my tears. "We're gonna place all our favorite Bonnie items, in all honesty- I told Elena you wouldn't care how dangerous it is in Mystic Falls."

"Look at who raised me," I let out in a therapeutic retort, his lip twitched up in a smile. "When is the funeral?"  
"Two days. I'll pick you up from wherever… Or you can just come back with me now. That was me signaling for you to come home."

"I will be there. Damon, I have to ensure that my friends who are alive, stay alive. I will always have time to say goodbye to my great niece. I will be there, I promise. Don't start without me?" I hugged him without looking into his face, this time- it was my turn to be obscure. When he tried to further pressure me to follow him on his path to Mystic Falls, I promised to leave when the sun went down, ensuring I will be there by the time the sun was up the next day. He didn't seem to be content with this answer either, but there was never an answer that would satisfy Damon.

Unfortunately, now if only I could get the answers I needed.

Leaving Damon without another word on the situation, I made my way back to Marcel's compound, in dire need to vent, but more so to let him know exactly what was going on before my departure. Much to my surprise, when I entered his territory, I was welcomed with his army of vampires as opposed to him. The curly haired vampire mingled in a circle, even with my presence known he didn't acknowledge me this time. However, I need answers from him.

"Diego, isn't it?" His back remained towards me as I walked closely towards him. The other vampires noticed my entrance, but he continued talking as if my grace hadn't touched his senses or my words.

 _Nevermind the vamp hearing also._

Though I just wanted to rip his head off, I continued once more. "Excuse me, Diego."

"Marcel said not to eat the little witch, he didn't say we had to talk to you." My irritation grew wild.

"Child, I am far too old to tolerate your disrespectful antics. I just need you to answer one question, then I will-" His laugh overpowered my words; my powers curled around the base of the compound in response. Instead of the normal feel of my energy shooting from everywhere, the floor seemed to be the space that held the most voltage. It felt as if warm water was slowly rising from the depths of my ankles and moving towards my pelvis. My eyes grew weaker and my vision swayed. Sooner rather than later, Diego was hurdling in mind bottling agony. His cries bellowing throughout the courtyard. "I am not one of your French Quarter witches that are all afraid of you. I am older and a lot stronger than all of you combined. Where is Marcellus?"

Diego attempted to speak, yet, the pain seems to catch his words faster than his tongue. Another vampire stepped up to take his plea instead. She had the weirdest looking mohawk, I silently wondered where in Nola she had requested that cut.

"Rousseau's. Marcel is at Rousseau's."

My magic worked as its own, the gentle wind softly pulling apart my molecules, sweeping the autumn leaves from the ground to cloak my teleportation. Vampires all around gawked in awe as my body spread from each length, gliding in the warm Louisiana winds, I felt my molecules take flight on the air.

Took me a while midair before I noticed that I had no idea which way to go while using teleportation. So I just continued to focus on Marcel Gerard. Taking his energy as a compass.

Rousseau's bar was owned by Jane Ann and Sophie. Up until now, I just remembered that a long time ago the bar was cast with a cloaking spell, enabling anyone inside from being tracked. I silently hoped Davina wouldn't need my help within the next few weeks while I visited Mystic Falls. I caught a trace of a girl two inches shorter than me, her hairstyle was remarkably familiar… _I couldn't be._

I pressed forward on my investigation, the girl held a soft caramel mocha tone, and those curls, I've seen those curls… _I'm going crazy, I have to be going crazy_ … Damon just told me she was dead!

The Bonnie lookalike curled around a corner- moving into the ladies room. I moved forward with caution, shoving drunken patients, but the girl reemerged from the bathroom with her friends, revealing her true face… As I said, just a Bonnie lookalike. There was a growing pain I felt I couldn't stomach for much more, taking a seat at the large ivory skinned bar- I helped myself to a glass of water.

Instead of my usual bartender, Jane Ann, another held her place behind the bar; keeping ground I might add as well. Her blond curls bouncing as she focused between making an Amaretto sour and a mango daiquiri in two separate shakers, pouring the contents in two glasses. I walked up to a barstool- picking up a leftover double rocks glass and passing it to the blonde.

"Hello Lovely," I smiled in her direction. "I was looking for a fellow by the name of Marcellus- sorry, Marcel."

"Friend of Marcel's." Her voice was a dark tone for a woman. But her astonishing facial features let me know she was birthed as a female. She was beautiful. Pale blue eyes that could match any ocean that wasn't in the state of Louisiana.

"Sort of a friend. More of a foe." I toyed around, taking a glance at her nametag. "Camille. What a sweet name."

"Thank you, mysterious foe." I giggled at her reply. "As for Marcel, he's in the back, talking to another bartender, Sophie."

"Weirdly enough, I know Sophie as well. I believe the meeting is about me. May I?"

"May you what? Come into my place of employment and go into the office. No, I may not." She gave a short smile before moving on hastily, "Next customer,"

I could see why Jane Ann hired her, she had spunk… Hidden behind the hideous dye job and bad attitude, I could see a girl I could be friends with. Camille took a few drink orders before returning back to me, four margaritas and eight cosmopolitans later, I expected her to say something, instead, she just exposed the same grim she held before. I watched her eyes carefully, Camille now gesturing me towards a purple velvet curtain reaching towards the back.

I'd forgotten I had come on Southern Decadence week, so there were LGBT college students flocking all around the bar, some girls even looked my way. In a different state of mind- I would've relish in the thought of having a vacation… Bonnie died, she's dead… She's not coming back to me… And my lover might be next. Seems pretty crappy if I celebrate.

I passed the cloth, moving deeper into the darkness. There was a sliver of light in a few short steps, but the darkness made it difficult to see in front of my feet. There was an absence in energy on the other side of the veil, and even before I pulled back the curtain I knew who was on the other side.

"Aveeno Bennett, I was wondering when you would stop being rude and say hello." His English accent rubbing my nerves in all the wrong way, each syllable caressing my power to come forth. I was so not in the mood to be bothered by an Original.

"What can I say, Klaus, my southern hospitality escapes me. I _was_ raised by a vampire after all. I'm looking for Marcellus, have you seen him?"

"I ask the questions in my town."

"I'm sorry, Marcel told me this was his town. And it has been, for quite a while now. Or have we forgotten the past already? Over a thousand years, that brain has to be withering away." It was weird, for a moment, I thought he exposed a smile… In fact, the same exact smile I had just seen on Camille's face… Ah. He hovered on a fire escape landing right above me, all black really did seem to fit all the badass vamps. I push to continue to calm his nerves, but his grip was already on my windpipe in the same fashion I thought of apologizing, I struggled with his clasp around my throat- trying my hardest to pry his hands away, but my shared grip on consciousness was fading as well. Klaus smiled in my face, enchanting over his conquest, I had been conquered by the father and son… Not in the same context, but all the same. I saw the familiar patches of death and finally realized why I had seen Bonnie… Klaus was going to kill me.

After another series of blackouts, I felt a pulse strive past me- knocking away Klaus' hand from my neck, and the wind flowed down my throat forcefully. I collapsed on the ground, trying to place around my surroundings once more. I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders, from the frost I could tell they were a vampire, however, I couldn't tell whether it was Damon or not, and that's what scared me most.

The hand's guided me back, moving towards the streets and I started to gain notice of my scenes, the first was my nose. It wasn't Damon who held me, the Ralph Lauren cologne bringing crisp tears to my eyes. Marcellus pinned me onto the hood of a car, checking for any battle wounds on my body I'm assuming from the way his hands roamed my body.

"Are you okay?"

"Klaus,"

"Should be waking up soon, so I need to get you out of here and come back and take care of him."

"No."

"No?"

"I understand this is your town Marcellus, but your maker is out of control." I hopped off the car just in time I might add. Klaus had just reassembled himself and was recuperating to being knocked out by Marcel. "I wouldn't blame you for wanting to leave, though."

"Aveeno, this is Klaus, you said it yourself, no one ever defeats him." The tears resurfaced, taking a toll on my powers. A slow shower had begun to fall.

"Bonnie is dead." It was the first time I had finally said it aloud and confessed it to the truth. "She is gone. I'm alone. She was the only reason I held on to this point…"

"You are not alone, you have me." Klaus straightened out his jacket, the veins under his eyes growing with rage, Marcellus returned the same blood stare. Then I felt my place… In the middle. Everything moved in slow motion, or at least, I saw it in that complexity. I knew my target, he even smile at me. Stupid move.

" _Phasmatos Incendia._ "


	9. Aveeno's farewell

Klaus Mikaelson's clothes emerged in fiery embers, my magic casting the flames to intensify. He patted his jacket ferociously- slowly exposing his animalistic form. I flexed my palm once more, absorbing the relics of the town once more. " _Phesmatos Morsinus Pyrox Allum_." The flow of power coursed through my veins, I could feel Klaus' mass on my fingertips. His blood coursing on the lines of my fingers. " _Donn moi se la vroh kondu feh aila ra donn toi moi. Donn moi. Salacku tusdeh do. Vala._ " He crouched on his knees, not begging to be released, but growling instead- he was exposing his wolf form. I curled my power back.

"I continuously tell you guys, I'm not one of these French Quarter witches, I don't play at the hands of my ancestors. Even if I did, they would all want you dead. Unfortunately- I don't." I calmed the flames, finally getting a grip on my emotions. Klaus continued to rage in anger, so I remained to hold my palm out- showing I was still charging with power. "I didn't come to fight you, Klaus. I just…" I cut myself short before confessing my inner felt emotions to Klaus… Regardless of Marcel thinking he was changing, I knew exactly the beast he was inside; not only did he instill fear in Katherine- but he made her poison my mother with the same fear. Ultimately me too… It's why I was always moving around.  
Must be weird, most people feel safer with a home, I feel safer without one.

In all my rage I seemed to forget Marcel's presence. He grabbed ahold of my hand that was free, which calmed my power more than anything. His cold hands pulsating a therapeutic gesture. "I'm sorry," I whispered. His thumb softly rubbed the backside of my hand, there was nothing more I wanted than to curl in his arms and wish everything would go back to somewhat normality. I felt a relish of power and triumph coursed through my blood… I was too much of a battle for Klaus. Who would he call next Rebekah?

"As I've said before, that witch needs to be kept on a leash, years after years and he's still alive." Klaus choked through vibrant breaths, "Wonder how Rebekah would take it to him still seeing the light of day."

"Don't threaten him," Marcel growled, it was my turn to pull him away from his violent state, I couldn't continue this… The fighting. I continued instead, "This was not my intent and you know it, Klaus. I came in peace, I wasn't even looking for you! Instead, you chose a battle with me! I am not your enemy, continue to toy with me and I will befriend who is."

"Aveeno," Marcel warned, his attempt gesturing me stop speaking, but his words meant nothing- my words poured on.

" _Lec tare sel vipre._ " Klaus' neck was forced into my palm and he dangled on his knees in front of me. "How does it feel? To be on your knees, rendered to someone who might have the chance in killing you?"

"Aveeno, you made your point."

"Have I, Marcel? How many more deaths is it going to take?" I tightened my grip around his neck, my touch spiking with the bitter lick of vervain. In my mind, I knew it wasn't worth it. Killing him, it would only anger Elijah and Rebekah. So I snapped his neck, "Menedek qual suurentaa!"

I glanced at Marcel, "When he wakes up, tell him I said… I don't know, think of something cool- tell him I said it."

"Aveeno,"

"We had this discussion before, now it's just the icing on the cake. My niece died Marcel, don't ask me to stay, please don't ask me to make that choice."

"I will make it safe for you to return here,"

"Klaus won't remember anything, it's okay. I am as free as I've ever been." I winked at him, taking his chin in my palm. I tried hard to control my tears, but some managed to beat their way out of my lids. "You are the one that needs saving. Make sure Davina doesn't do that spell, Marcellus. It will kill you. Give me time, I will find the right spell- the right person and bring them here, don't be suicidal."

His smooth melanin skin felt soft under my touch, and instead, he replaced my hand with his, now wrapping his arms around my waist. I closed my eyes in the sheer finery of the moment. His lips brushed against mine and I gripped hold to his brown leather jacket for comfort. His breath smelled heavily of Jack Daniels, the honey flavor and it brought more tears to my eyes. He grabbed for my hand, leading me down the path that leads from the back of Rousseau's and onto a path of starry radiance. I magnified at the thought of it only taking once for Klaus to hurt me for Marcel to come to his senses. At least, he will be more aware when choosing allies.

Marcel held his hand out for a car, our fingertips losing contact for a second before he hurried to reclaim the touch.

"Year after year," I laughed at our regular facade when I left. Back in 1978, I had come to the border of Louisiana to call upon Marcel, then I had done it once more… Then again. One time he just asked, 'When will you be mine, for good?' However, I was never able to give him an answer… I still couldn't.

"I'll still love you the whole three hundred and sixty-five to come," I replied, resting my forehead on top of his.

"Hopefully, the next year you will be mine, for good."

"Marcel,"

"I said hopefully,"

"I'll be back, I promise."

"I know you will, you always come back. I love you, Aveeno."

"Goodbye, Marcellus."


End file.
